One way or another this witness statement is the strongest proof yet that Christina was somehow involved in Katie’s abduction. Suspicions spiral in my brain. Damien is controlling her, he forced her into this, Katie is the pawn in his ill-fated plan to get a shit-load of money to pay off his gambling debts whether through reward or ransom or insurance payout or some other shameful scheme in collaboration with a vicious drug-smuggling ring, in which one or more corrupt police officers are involved.
And it has all gone horribly wrong.
Which speculation all leads to a creeping new doubt, an uncomfortable thought. What is Kramer’s role in all of this and why does Costa appear to be covering for him?
Can I trust Costa?
23
Photograph Eight
12 May 2009: The Neverland
Ah! The Neverland. How I loved that yacht. Dad let me choose the name, do you remember? Peter Pan was our favourite story that summer.
‘So come with me where dreams are born and time is never planned.’ He let me write that inscription inside the front cover of the Logbook when he took delivery of the new yacht and we lived by it all the summer long. We were mermaids, playing ball with bubbles in the rainbows, flirting with the boy who never grew up and torturing the dull, self-important Wendy.
This photograph brings back so many memories - smooth polished timber, the smell of salt and the sea, damp leather seats and the cool touch of brass fittings and blazing white painted metal. Father adored her – his one luxury – a throwback to the adventurous days of his youth when he and Grandpa took part in regattas together, sailing racing yachts in the Atlantic sea. They were proper sailors, not the sun-seeking, gin-slinging amateurs that we became.
Look, there in the distance, our rock, burning black and glorious in the setting sun. Marooners’ Rock we called it in our games of make-believe. We spent hours combing our long golden tresses with imaginary shells, slapping our tails and diving into the water in search of Tinker Bell, and drowning men.
You’re sitting at the polished table, next to James. The rock is behind you. There’s a document in front of you and you have a pen in your right hand – you’re looking down at the page, about to sign. James has his hand over the ring-less fingers of your left hand, and he’s looking up at me, smiling, as I take the photograph. As the shutter closed, you succumbed, and signed your agreement to be our surrogate.
*
In the end, it was Gabrielle who made it happen. She was desperate to have a baby. She told Lara her marriage was cursed and only a baby could break the spell. She could be such a drama queen! Lara resisted. She knew Gabrielle had suffered from depression and post-partum psychosis but she didn’t want to be dragged back into the toxic triangle, so she kept her distance and threw herself into life in New York.
If Gabrielle had had any kind of moral compass she would have laughed at the irony of the situation. Having forced Lara into having an abortion when she was pregnant with James’ child, she was now in the humiliating position of having to beg and bully her into agreeing to act as a surrogate for herself and James. Lara was insultingly defiant, defending herself fiercely and refusing to cooperate. Gabrielle was infuriated by her moralistic interpretation of their childlessness. She called it ‘divine retribution’ for the supposed wrong that Gabrielle had done to her. Gabrielle was sick of her.
Indeed, Gabrielle was not the kind of person to indulge in feelings of guilt or self-doubt. She was acutely aware of wrongs done to her but sublimely oblivious to the distress she caused others. Since her marriage to James five years previously, she had experienced the devastating pain and anguish of multiple miscarriages, ending with the overwhelming heartache of Rose’s tragic still birth. Further, she suspected with good reason that there had been more than one romantic dalliance between James and Lara during her disastrous pregnancies. All those business trips. Although she had no proof of it, she was convinced that he had combined business with pleasure on more than one occasion.
Lara owed her.
Gabrielle knew only too well that James was restless in their childless marriage. Fatherhood would ‘anchor’ him. After countless investigations and consultations, the medical experts had concluded that while she was not infertile, her womb was incapable of carrying a baby to term. Having exhausted all other medical procedures, the only remaining options were adoption or surrogacy. They both favoured surrogacy. The urge to pass on their genetic inheritance was compelling – a desire bordering on obsession in her case.
She had a plentiful supply of viable frozen eggs that she’d had the foresight to insist on preserving during the many IVF treatments she had endured, and the experts were confident that the couple were suitable candidates for a gestational surrogacy. James would have preferred a third-party arrangement but Gabrielle was not keen on the idea of entrusting the gestation of their baby to a stranger. Once the woman was impregnated, they would lose all control. If, on the other hand, Lara could be persuaded to act as their surrogate then Gabrielle knew she could retain command and control of the whole project: she could follow the implantation closely, be intimately involved all the way through, and make sure everything possible was being done to protect their baby. She had no qualms about using Lara in this way. The practical benefits of the proposed arrangement were all that mattered at the end of the day. It would be in the best interests of her baby. Lara’s womb would be the perfect vessel for the gestation.
It had taken some serious bridge-building for Gabrielle to re-establish relations with Lara in New York. There had been more than three months of relentless transatlantic emotional blackmail before Lara had capitulated and agreed to a short ‘reconciliation holiday’ on the venerable old yacht The Neverland which now belonged to Gabrielle. Of course, Gabrielle had her own selfish agenda – the real reason was to get Lara to sign an agreement to act as surrogate mother for herself and James. According to her plan, it was to be a gestational surrogacy – using her previously frozen eggs, she and James would be the biological parents.
In preparation for the reunion, Gabrielle had instructed a lawyer in New York to deal with the necessary paperwork for the surrogacy. The lawyer had advised that paid or commercial surrogacy contracts were not legally enforceable in the state of New York but that he could draw up a memorandum of understanding formalising an altruistic surrogacy arrangement between the intended parents, Gabrielle and James, and their gestational surrogate, Lara. Once armed with this document, Gabrielle also investigated the procedural matters relating to the export of her frozen eggs to the United States. She contacted the medical facility in London where her eggs were stored and kicked off the formalities for their transfer to a fertility clinic in New York specialising in surrogacy where the fertilisation and embryo transfer procedures could take place. Gabrielle was determined not to leave anything to chance.
James was happy to go along with whatever the biology and Gabrielle required of him. It remained only for the couple to obtain Lara’s agreement to the surrogacy. Gabrielle would then ensure that Lara made all the necessary arrangements for the embryo’s transfer to be carried out successfully (with a prior visit by James to the fertility clinic to perform his part in the medical process, being factored into the plan). Initially Lara’s response was to delete or ignore all communications. But Gabrielle was relentless, determined to get her own way come hell or high water. She bombarded Lara daily with messages in which she accused her of being selfish, cold, emotionally bankrupt. Finally, Lara responded to the barrage of emails and texts.
‘I’ll meet you in the BLI but I’m not making any promises.’ She had a few days’ holiday that she needed to take before her company’s year-end, and she felt like a break in the sun. The trip would commit her to nothing. Anyway, she was longing to see James again.
So they had an alcohol-fuelled week together on the The Neverland, the three of them acting, as it happened, very much like over-excited teenagers living out a fantasy. It was the first time they had been togethe
r since that dreadful wedding day, almost exactly five years ago. Gabrielle was on her very best behaviour and James was at his most charming, romancing ‘his girls’ with the attentiveness and chivalry that came naturally to him. Although she loved his company, Lara couldn’t stop herself analysing the situation and judging him.
He’s not a stupid man, she thought. But he has a rational and emotional blind spot where we’re concerned. He doesn’t see us as distinct individuals but rather as two interchangeable embodiments of the same person – he claims he loves us both and has even been ‘in love’ with us both, and yet he doesn’t see anything wrong with that. Lara had come to the conclusion that because he lacked the imagination to distinguish between them as individuals, he couldn’t understand how his behaviour could be considered morally reprehensible or destructive. He was too lazy and lacking in self-discipline even to reflect upon it. It just came naturally to him, he followed his instincts, he couldn’t help himself. For him, there was no boundary between friendship and infatuation.
And now they were making it easy for him, she realised. This ‘reconciliation’ would reignite the old flames. A surrogacy arrangement would forge an unbreakable bond between the three of them – a baby, the ultimate embodiment of the ties that bind – but would it be bonding or bondage? And who was the captor and who was the slave?
Someone’s going to suffer, thought Lara. But I won’t let it be me.
Would it be James? Was he a free agent or was he the one being ensnared into a trap, the sacrificial victim in this toxic triangle of love and hate?
During her first day on board The Neverland, Lara kept up her defences. But it was good to be together again with the two people in the world, who despite everything, she was closest to. She enjoyed the flirtatious attentions she received from James. She soaked up the solicitous care and calculated compliments from Gabrielle. What’s more, they were easy in each other’s company. They ‘clicked’ as a threesome. Even Gabrielle felt more contented and relaxed – the marriage was now complete. Where before there had been a gaping hole, which both she and James acknowledged as the longing for a child, for this brief happy spell it was, as the French say, a joyful ménage à trois. It was decadent and it was fun. They spent long days lazing out on deck, soaking up the sun. Even though in her late teens Lara had developed a phobia for being submerged in water (thanks to one of Gabrielle’s more malicious pranks), James strapped her into a life jacket and took her for thrilling rides on his jet-ski. Such was the confidence and trust he inspired in her, that there was nothing she enjoyed more than zooming across the bay with her arms clasped around his waist. She was exhilarated, more alive than she had felt in years. She didn’t pause to wonder why. She and Gabrielle went shopping in the local markets and their dual beauty caused a stir among the locals. Lara enjoyed the wolf-whistles, and flashing smiles and turning heads. Her colleagues in New York were so dull in comparison.
On the fourth day, Gabrielle put James to work. He cooked a fabulous meal of exotic seafood and freshly caught fish, served with three different wines. They spent the evening reminiscing about the past and he kept the girls in fits of giggles with impersonations and stories about the eccentric private practice clients he had treated before his move from practising medicine to a sales management role in international pharma. Prompted by Gabrielle, he kept refilling Lara’s glass. By the time Gabrielle brought out the dessert platter of fresh fruit and pastries and cream, Lara’s head was spinning and she could scarcely stand. She lurched up from the table to get a glass of water and swayed her way over to the galley kitchen. Gabrielle nodded at James.
‘It’s time.’
James pushed the empty plates to one side and spread the document out on the table in front of Lara. He slid in beside her on the bench and handed her the pen.
‘So there it is,’ said Gabrielle. ‘It’s all very straightforward. I hired an attorney in New York.’
Lara slammed down her water glass, spilling water over the first page of the contract.
‘So that’s why you brought me here. You’re giving me an ultimatum. And there was I, thinking that you just wanted us all to be friends again, to give me time to think about it and to make my own decision. I should have guessed your motives were entirely selfish!
‘Don’t worry. It’s really only the signature page that matters,’ said Gabrielle, as she hurriedly soaked up the spillage with some paper towels. ‘James and I have signed already. You need to sign here at the bottom of page three – that’s all. Just below my signature… that’s it, where James has got his finger. I’ll fill out the rest for you. Don’t worry about reading it now. It’s getting late. You can read over the contract in the morning.’
Gabrielle handed Lara her pen.
Lara woke at midday with a searing headache and a bad feeling.
What have I done?
Out of habit and pity and love for James and too much red wine, she had capitulated and signed the agreement against her better judgment. The misgivings started immediately. What the hell had she let herself in for? How would a surrogate pregnancy impact on her social and working life in New York? She had a new circle of friends. She was in a ‘thing’ that was more than a ‘thing,’ with a guy she’d met a few weeks earlier at another hedge fund. She was getting on really well with her boss and angling for a promotion at work at her next annual review. Gabrielle’s ‘project’ would mean taking time off work, losing the chance of promotion, wrecking her social life and probably sacrificing her ‘more than a thing.’ Save for the occasional ‘throwback,’ clandestine, business-trip close-encounter with James, this budding romance was the nearest she had come to a proper relationship in the past few years. The prospect of her surrogacy would strike it dead. She couldn’t imagine a more effective passion-killer for a tentative boyfriend and potential lover.
Over breakfast, she said to Gabrielle,
‘I’ve changed my mind, give me the document, I’m going to rip it up.’
‘Too late,’ said Gabrielle. ‘You’ve signed it now. I’ve faxed it to my lawyer. You can’t just pull out on a whim.’
‘I don’t even know what it says,’ said Lara. ‘You didn’t give me a chance to read it. I was drunk last night. You forced me into it. You know that.’
‘You can’t do this,’ said Gabrielle. ‘We’re counting on you now. James will never forgive you if you turn your back on us, and nor will I.’
She made Lara a cup of strong black coffee and banged it down on the table in front of her.
‘Besides, it’s all very fair and reasonable,’ said Gabrielle. ‘We’ll compensate you for any loss of earnings due to time off work. We’ll pay all your out-of-pocket expenses. And although it’s not written in the agreement, I’ll even pay you an extra twenty-five-thousand dollars to cover any inconvenience. It’ll be our little secret. I’m being very generous.’
Gabrielle sat down at the table opposite Lara and eyed her like a cat watching its prey.
‘Let’s face it Lara, you’re not going to get married. You’re not the marrying type. This is your best chance of having a family. At the end of the day, we’ll make you the godmother, you’ll be known as the “auntie” and we’ll give you the opportunity of seeing the child on a regular basis. If you don’t do this for us, you’re facing a sad and lonely old age.’
Don’t do this, you bitch, thought Lara, although she didn’t say it out loud, and fortunately just then James bounded up the steps from the cabin.
‘Hey Lara, I’m riding the jet-ski over to the Mermaids’ Lagoon. Want to come? The sea’s like a mirror this morning.’
Lara tipped the coffee down the sink and followed James to the stern where she helped him lower the jet-ski onto the water. If nothing else, she was going to make the most of the remaining holiday. She wasn’t going to allow Gabrielle’s old bullying ways to spoil her fun.
The last two days on The Neverland were fraught with tension. Lara and Gabrielle barely spoke but James made valiant efforts to ac
t as the go-between, smoothing things over and keeping everyone plied with drink. By the last evening, Lara had made up her mind.
‘I’ll do it, but on my own terms and in my own time – when it suits me,’ she said over the last candlelit supper. She was determined not to miss out on holidays or lose her job or jeopardise her chances of furthering her career.
‘I’m not giving up work and I’m staying in New York.’ She glared at the couple. ‘And I don’t want any sentimental hand-holding ceremonies,’ she said. ‘I can do without you and James standing by the bedside looking all gooey-eyed while they do what they’ve got to do. I’ll choose the clinic and I’ll go to the clinic alone – you’re not coming anywhere near it. I’m going to remain fully in control of anything that has to be done to my body. This time you’re not going to interfere.’
‘Whatever you want,’ said Gabrielle. ‘It’s your call.’
‘And you can keep that bloody camera away from me,’ said Lara. ‘I’m not about to become your next photographic exhibit.’
24
Scarlett
The villa is hidden away about five miles up a winding unmade road. If you are a little distracted and dulled by the heat, it’s easy to miss. I catch sight of the broken sign for Villa La Revanche at the last minute and slam on the brakes.
The quad bike skids across the road with a sickening screech and I’m catapulted over the handlebars. I land with a heavy thump on to an overgrown bank of long grass and wild flowers. My helmet bangs against the turf. Maybe the quad bike wasn’t such a great idea.
Having reached the conclusion I can’t trust anyone, perhaps not even Costa, as I was leaving the police station, on a whim I decided to come and check things out at the villa for myself. Christina may have staged the abduction of her own daughter but for all we know she may be acting under duress. Her own life may be in peril.
She's Mine Page 20